Rewritten Chapter
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The freshman ceremony began.
Students flooded the wide school hall, their footsteps echoing off vaulted ceilings. Rows of chairs stretched endlessly, a sea of blue and white uniforms settling into place. The murmur of conversations swelled and faded like ocean waves.
The headteacher's voice droned through the speakers. Teachers were introduced. Senior representatives spoke. Freshmen recited their oaths. The words blurred together—a ritual as predictable as sunrise.
Then the emcee stepped forward—lean, tall, adjusting his double-lens glasses. He tapped the microphone twice. Smiled.
"Now, please welcome our freshman representative, Li Feng Xi—Fredrick Li—to deliver his orientation speech."
A smattering of claps rippled through the hall. Polite. Unenthusiastic.
Creak.
The stage floor groaned beneath measured footsteps. Each step landed with a soft thud on polished wood. The rustle of his uniform. The creak of white shoes. The soft whoosh of air as he moved—every sound spoke of quiet confidence.
But the sound wasn't what caught their attention.
Fredrick Li was flawless. The kind of flawless that made you question reality. Chiseled features that belonged on magazine covers. Skin that seemed to glow under the harsh fluorescent lights. Athletic legs clad in tailored uniform pants—the fabric hugging muscles that spoke of hours in the gym. Narrow waist cinched by his belt. Broad shoulders. Effortless idol-like charm.
The hall collectively gasped.
A soft "wow" rippled through the air like a whispered secret. Eyes stretched wide. Jaws went slack. Girls clutched their chests as if their hearts might escape.
Sunlight streamed through the top windows, seeming to notice his presence, casting a warm glow over his features. He was beautiful. Angelic. The kind of beautiful that made time feel suspended.
Then he smiled.
His lips curved into a radiant arc. The corners of his eyes crinkled. Perfect white teeth flashed. The warmth in his expression made everyone in the room feel seen, special, like they were the only person who mattered.
He stepped to the microphone. Adjusted it. Began to speak.
"Fellow classmates—" His voice was a clear, deep hum, melodic and intoxicating. "—we're in this together. I'm excited to see what we can achieve as a team. Let's make our mark on this school. Create memories that will last a lifetime."
The words were standard. Predictable. But his delivery held them captive.
"Don't be afraid to take risks," he continued. "It's often the best way to discover your true potential."
The girls in the front row were in crisis.
"Ah! Fredrick Li is too handsome," one sighed, slumping in her seat.
"I think I'm in love," another purred, head cradled in her palms.
"His voice is like morning wind in a meadow," a girl in the back sobbed dramatically, hand over her heart. "My heart can't take it!"
"I've never seen anyone this gorgeous except on TV!"
They commented among themselves, unashamed, hearts in their eyes. Fredrick continued obliviously, his words washing over them like honey.
Amy leaned toward Delilah, who had been staring at the stage with unusual intensity. "Don't you think he's good-looking?"
"Huh?" Delilah snapped back to reality.
Amy raised a questioning brow. "You already like him that much?"
A crimson blush exploded across Delilah's cheeks. "No, I... I just—"
She bit her lower lip, trapped by her own inability to deny it. She did find Fredrick cute. Maybe more than cute.
Amy's jaw nearly dropped. Delilah—who had never shown interest in any boy—was blushing like a teenager caught with a love note. This was new. This was interesting.
"Tsk! That guy..." Amy shook her head with a chuckle, scanning the room. Nearly every girl was love-struck. Fredrick just couldn't stop stealing hearts.
"You know," Amy said, her voice drifting, "he was my good friend."
Delilah's head whipped around, eyes wide as saucers.
Amy frowned at her expression. "You don't believe me?"
Delilah shook her head frantically. That wasn't it. She believed Amy. But the way Amy had said it—distracted, zoning out—was so unlike her. There was a story there. Something unspoken.
Delilah opened her mouth to ask.
The lights dimmed.
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The evening entertainment segment had arrived. Students who had completed their guided tours filed back into their seats, weary but buzzing.
A teacher gestured toward the stage.
Su Zhe Jin—Harrison Su—strode forward.
The hall went silent.
It wasn't the comfortable silence of anticipation. It was ominous. A chill descended like a gathering storm. The air thickened. The temperature seemed to drop.
Harrison moved with languid, unhurried strides. Long legs eating up the distance. Confident. Slothful. Utterly indifferent.
His presence was a punch to the gut—dark and domineering, shouting Here comes the boss without a single word. Fitted suit. Drool-worthy jawline carved by masterful hands. Onyx eyes gleaming cold and unyielding, capable of freezing water at fifty paces.
He swept the audience with a bored gaze that somehow touched each person individually. Undeniable. Intense. Vibrating with the low-key growl of a predator sizing up its prey.
Girls were torn.
Some clutched their throats, lungs failing. Others pressed hands to racing hearts. Their minds raced with impossible thoughts: He's so intimidating. I'd die if he smiled at me. But wait—I'd die if he didn't smile at me too.
It was like their hormones were playing a twisted game of Mafia Prince or Fairytale Heartthrob.
Harrison won every category.
He reached the stage. Didn't smile. Didn't acknowledge the audience. Just stood there, radiating indifference like a personal force field.
Delilah, still recovering from her Fredrick-induced blush, found herself equally captivated—and equally unsettled. There was something about Harrison's darkness that drew the eye, even as it made you want to look away.
Beside her, Amy had gone still. Unusually still.
"Su Zhe Jin," Amy murmured, almost to herself.
Delilah glanced at her friend. Amy's expression was unreadable—a flicker of something complicated passing behind her eyes.
"You know him too?" Delilah whispered.
Amy's lips pressed into a thin line. She shook her head. "I don't."
She offered no more explanation. Her gaze remained fixed on the stage, on the dark figure who commanded attention without trying.
The ceremony continued around them. Announcements were made. People clapped.
Delilah's fingers twisted in her lap. Something told her the coming years would be anything but simple.
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(♥_♥) (*_*)